


Stan's ex still misses him

by song_of_staying



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Criminals Made Them Do It, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 01:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/song_of_staying/pseuds/song_of_staying
Summary: Written for the kinky_falls prompt: "Stan and Ford have a run in with some of Stan's old enemies, Ford gets incapacitated. The bad guys give Stan a choice: fuck his brother or watch him die. Stan chooses the former."





	Stan's ex still misses him

**Author's Note:**

> This story is non-con, and features homophobic language, violence, and threats of violence.

They have Ford tied and gagged, and maybe Stan's got a chance of getting them out of this alive.

He knows Rico, whose real name is Jeremy Stevens, who likes seeing his men fight each other over literal scraps, who made Stan strip down for him in a parking lot that one time. Stan is bad at handling the type of guy that 'Rico' is - it's really hard to hold back on the urge to punch them out. Come to think of it, that's how all this started. 

But with Rico, he knows where to start with getting out of it.

He takes off his fez and gets down on his knees. His knees protest harder than they used to.

"What can I do for you?" he asks. Rico thinks he likes it when people get to the point. "You know I don't have the money." Rico doesn't care about the money. Rico cares that Stan got away, and even got in a good parting shot. Rico is an old man now, with pale watery eyes, and he's probably got nothing to do but lick old wounds.

"Ahh." He has a knife, scratches his own dirty chin with it. Idiot. "Stanley. We thought you were dead."

"Yeah," Stan says. "That was kinda the point."

Rico laughs, and then the knife is pressed against Stan's lips. "I missed you, Stanley."

"Missed you too, Rico," he says. Rico's hand isn't as steady as it used to be. Stan pulls away just a little, licks the blood away from his lips. They didn't even tie his hands or anything - they didn't need to.

"I like your brother," Rico says, and there it is. "He's spirited. Took out two of my guys. Guess he's not a spineless cocksucker like you."

"Yeah," Stan says. "He's the better twin." Ford isn't knocked out, but they tied him up right. "Always upstaging me and junk. Never cared for him much."

Rico moves toward Ford, and Stan can't help it, he twitches. Rico's smile's gotten uglier with time.

"Here's the deal, Stanley." Stan looks up at him. "I kill your spirited brother and you walk away free - I'll even call you a cab. Or you convince him to get down on his knees and suck me off. You've got -" he checks his fucking Rolex - "three minutes."

Stan stands up, stiff and aching. He takes a quick glance at the ring of men around them. There's at least ten, probably more. Professionals.

He starts untying Ford, and feels their gaze on him. They took away Ford's glasses. He's moving around, pissed off, and Stan sighs. He takes the gag out of his mouth.

"Stanley, explain." Ford's got his mission leader voice on. Below the fear, below the adrenaline, Stan feels a spike of pure annoyance.

"Once upon a time, I did a bunch of stupid shit." He's done untying Ford, and massages his wrists quickly. There's a bruise on Ford's cheek, and a ring of them around his throat. "And now it's caught up with me, so you're going to go and suck the nice gentleman off, and then we go home."

"The nice gentleman," Ford says.

"I'm the nicest gentleman you'll ever meet," Rico says, and spits. Stan can't believe this guy lived to see seventy without getting taken down by one of his own men.

"Look," Stan says, quick and quiet. "I'm sorry, okay? But this isn't like the shit you're used to, there's no - magic goblin that's going to jump into the volcano and save the day. There's no shortcut. I can't protect you if you don't do what he says."

Ford's looking at him like - well, Stan doesn't know what that look means. Probably something along the lines of 'this is what you were doing while I was away discovering the secrets of the universe?'. But Stan will take the pity and the disgust, so long as Ford listens to him, just this once.

Ford stands up. He looks younger than usual, maybe it's just the bad lighting. He walks over to Rico, who's cleaning his teeth with the knife. And then Ford kneels.

"Hell, this one's got crazy eyes," Rico says, and Stan feels his hands curl into fists. "I'm not putting my dick in him. Boys? Any takers?" Silence from the ranks. Rico was never that great at keeping up morale. Not that great at keeping his dick up, either - Stan should have seen this coming.

"I guess that leaves you, Stanley."

It's not the biggest surprise. But Stan needs a moment to snap back to the present and get himself moving.

He can think of at least four things he could say about the proud tradition of brotherfucking in _Jeremy_ 's heritage - it would be a quick death, maybe. The guy doesn't have a taste for long games.

He stands in front of Ford and can't even look at him. 

He doesn't know where Ford stands on blowjobs usually, but when he unzips Stan, it feels calm, like a normal thing to do.

"Go ahead," Rico says. "Give us a show." He laughs, for his guys. "Anyone got one of those camera phones? We can put it on the internet. Disgusting geezers dot com." Not a single chuckling deputy. Tough crowd.

Stan looks down, and Ford's looking at him steadily. Well, okay. If he wants eye-contact, the least Stan can do is provide it.

Ford's fingers are cold and sharp, and he holds Stan's soft cock with care, like he's handling an experiment. Stan wonders if that's how Ford's explaining this to himself. Test Case B: fuckup twin brother's fucked-up phallus. Responds to the all the usual things, even if they're coming from the wrong place.

Ford licks the head, and then looks up at him again.

"Any time now is fine," Rico jeers. "As long as you boys are having fun."

Stan wonders if Ford knows how to deep-throat, and if Rico's going to insist on it. Probably. He puts a hand on Ford's head, and Ford doesn't jerk away. He takes Stan in his mouth - and Stan's not soft anymore, not exactly hard either.

Stan closes his eyes, and Ford sucks him, and lets him hold his hair. Ford's mouth is nice, it's just a mouth, and it's been more than ten years since anyone's done this for Stan. Longer since he was on the other end.

"Faster!" Rico snaps.

Ford takes him in deep and pulls back, then he does it more quickly. He feels steady and he feels like he knows what he's doing. Stan should take the time and think over their options, but the thing is, Rico can't be outsmarted, he's too rich and too well-guarded for it.

Maybe it's just that Stan can't think.

He makes sure to let go of Ford's hair - he was pulling on it. And he was pushing forward, a little, like an eager kid or something, he was going to fuck Ford's mouth for real. He would do that too, if he had to.

He stays really, really still and Ford speeds up again. He's definitely done it before.

When Ford puts a hand around the base of Stan's cock, Stan's about ready to come. A squeeze would do it, or if Ford touched his balls. He's not sure if that's what's supposed to happen, but hey, at least they'd get it over with.

"Ford," he says, quiet, and Ford pulls off. He jerks Stan off, precise as a doctor, and doesn't say anything at all when Stan comes, and stains Ford's sweater.

He still wants that eye-contact. Stan's not sure if Ford hates him now, not sure if there's any other possibility.

"That was impressive!" Rico says. "Held out for a while there, Stanley. Did someone train you out of shooting your load immediately?"

"Age and experience," Stan croaks. He needs to keep it together. "Rico, I'm sorry I disrespected you. We did what you wanted, and I'm off of your turf now. Will you let us go?"

He's going to beg harder, if he has to. But Rico smiles, and lets the knife clatter to the ground.

"I'm satisfied," he says. "And so are you, clearly. Your brother doesn't seem to be."

Ford is hard. He's still kneeling, hands still on his lap. He doesn't look like what happened here affected him at all.

Stanley doesn't know what to do about it. He stands between Ford and Rico, makes sure it's not a challenge. Maybe it comes out as a challenge anyway.

"We did what you asked," he says, in his feeble old man voice. "Please, just let h - let us go." He's willing to bargain down, but he's not going to lower his opening bid.

"You did," Rico says. "Maybe I should have thought of something more impressive for you to do. You just stood there."

Stan imagines the sensation of breaking through Rico's face. He stays still, and Ford is completely still too, on the ground behind him.

"You can go," Rico says. "Take your brother and just walk out, Stanley."

Stan grips Ford's shoulder, pulls hip up to stand. He won't let go of him right now. "Thank you," he grits out to Rico, and then, again, much more successfully, "Thanks."

"Make sure to lock your doors at night, boys," Rico says, soft. "I might just drop by and pay you a visit sometime."

But the ring of followers opens up, and Stan and Ford can walk through.

Ford doesn't say anything as they leave the warehouse, walk down the snowy road. It isn't even morning yet. Stan doesn't say anything either, but he finds them a motel. Their coats stayed with Rico, so he stands in front of Ford to cover the stain. The receptionist doesn't give a damn, and accepts the crumpled notes Stan kept in his pants. He can't afford two rooms, or two nights.

"Is he following us?" Ford asks, once they're alone. He sheds his sweater and folds it, neatly. "Is Rico going to attack again tonight?"

"No," Stan says, and it comes out too eager in his relief that Ford's still talking to him. "No, he's probably already left town. He won't be back for a while."

"Good." Ford sits on the shitty double bed. "Are you injured, Stanley?"

"Am _I_ \- uh, no. I'm fine. And you?" He feels heat rise to his face, because that's how Stan is. Useless in a life-or-death situation, and then even more useless later.

"I'm not hurt," Ford says, and his face is all twisted and swollen on one side. It almost looks like he's smiling.

"So," Stan doesn't know how to ask it. "Are you gonna leave tomorrow?"

"Of course. We are on our way home."

"Not with me. Look - I know this is all my fault, don't fucking be nice about it for the first time in your life. If you don't want to see me again, just tell me right now."

And it's rich of Stan to be making demands here, but he doesn't need Ford's pity.

"Stanley," Ford says. "Am I right in thinking you and Rico used to be lovers?"

It was never anything like love, but - "Something like that. Yeah."

"Well," Ford is definitely smiling. Maybe Stan broke his brain. "Your ex is still better than mine."

Stan sits down on the bed too.

"I don't know about that," Stan says.

"Trust me," Ford says. "Definitely better." He stretches, like some kind of big bare-armed cat. "Rico caught us unaware, that's all. It won't be like this next time."

"Next time?"

Ford leans over, squeezes his shoulder. "Next time, we're going to destroy him."

Stan doesn't pull away, and almost kind of believes it.


End file.
